


Starting Over

by anxietywrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Friends meddling, Love Letters, M/M, Not Beta Read, Phone Calls, Post-Break Up, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Rated T for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 03:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxietywrites/pseuds/anxietywrites
Summary: Bad at summaries, but here we go:Post break up, Steve travels to England to try and take his mind off the whole thing. Bucky stays behind, wondering what he did wrong. Will things get better?





	Starting Over

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a while back and deleted it, but I decided to write another part. It's not beta read, so all mistakes are mine. This is my first fic in this fandom but not on ao3, even though my profile says it is. long story.. however I do accept constructive criticism!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Six months. That’s how long it had been since Steve had ultimately decided they were better off as friends. Or, in reality, nothing at all. Bucky had no idea what he’d done. All the years he had been with Steve, even as friends, felt like nothing now.

 

Six months since the second worst day of Bucky’s life. Six months since he saw his best friend, his boyfriend, the love of his life, walk out of their apartment with his bag in hand. Not seeming to regret a thing, while also looking like he was going to break at any moment. Oh, how Bucky wished he would have broken. He wished he would have broken and stayed with him. They could have worked whatever it was out, but Steve had one foot out the door before he even broke up with Bucky. Was there someone else? Deep down Bucky knew there couldn’t have been, but the thought remained persistent.

 

Six months since he had seen any of their friends. Communicated with any of them. They had the same group of friends, and Bucky, ever the newcomer, decided it was only right to let Steve have them. Not that he had discussed this with Steve. Bucky prided himself on being able to put distance where it was needed. Making his friends pick sides wouldn’t be right to any of them. After years of pining after each other and the best (and longest) relationship of Bucky’s life, the past six months felt like hell.

 

Six months since Bucky really felt anything. Happiness, sadness, anger, anything. Ever since that fateful day, he’d felt empty. Numb. Felt as if the only thing keeping him in one piece had been ripped from him in the form of Steven Grant Rogers.

 

Bucky had managed, almost, to get to work the morning Steve had left. He had gotten to work, only to be sent home by his boss upon seeing the state Bucky appeared to be in. Which in retrospect was probably for the best, considering all of their friends frequent the coffee shop and bakery he works at. He’d taken the next day off as well to prepare himself for everything.

 

However, today was Sunday, and he was not working. Which wasn’t usually a good sign. He had picked up more hours since the breakup, trying to distract himself from the emptiness of his home. Dugan had taken one look at the hours he had worked and told him not to come in Sunday, or else. Bucky didn’t want to know what or else meant, so he attempted to sleep in, which didn’t go well. He tried to pick up some of the things Steve left behind and put them in an box in the corner of his room in case he wanted them back at some point. Looking at the memories became too much. He thought about going into work anyways once he got really antsy, until he heard a pounding on his door.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes open this door right now.” He heard a stern voice outside the door and froze momentarily, before realizing who it was. Opening it revealed Natasha and Sam, the two people he had actively tried to avoid for six months. Coincidental run ins at work were bound to happen but he chose his interactions carefully in the past six months. Needless to say, they had not been to his apartment in a long time.

 

“Hi.” He said, not wanting to say much else. Nat glared at him. “What?” He asked.

 

“You’ve been avoiding us.” She pointed out. She wasn’t wrong.

 

“I’ve been working.”

 

“For six months?” Sam asked incredulously.

 

“I decided to try and get the job at Stark. You know how hard that is.” Bucky lied, although upon thinking about it, it wasn’t a horrible idea. It would make him work a lot more than he already was.

 

“Fair, but shutting yourself in? For six months? Dude, not cool.” Sam said, pushing his way past Bucky into his apartment.

 

Nat studied him for a moment, Bucky knew she’d see right through him. “тебе лучше подать заявку на эту работу.” She muttered angrily in Russian before stepping into his apartment behind Sam.

 

“я уверен, что должен” Bucky whispered back, just so Natasha could hear him.

 

“Okay, for real man, what’s your deal? We’ve barely seen you in six months, and I hate to say it, but I miss you man.” Sam said from his spot on Bucky’s couch. Nat plopped down next to him.

 

Bucky felt his resolve slipping and his teeth clenched together. “Hey guys, welcome to my apartment, make yourselves at home.” Bucky ground out.

 

“James, seriously. We’re worried about you.” Natasha said quietly.

 

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” He said with an air of finality that only those two would question.

 

“Bucky. Dude, I don’t want to say you’re lying, but you haven’t been out with us in months.” Sam said.

 

Bucky sensed he had managed, somehow, to hurt Sam, and even moreso Natasha, which was the last thing he wanted. “It’s complicated. I want to, but I can’t.” He tried to explain. Natasha picked up on his implication.

 

“If this is about you wanting to avoid Steve, he’s been out traveling Europe for five months now. He comes back in a few months.”

 

The realization hit Bucky like a brick. He managed to make it to the couch in between Sam and Natasha to process the information. One month after their breakup he had left for a trip he hadn’t bothered to tell Bucky about, or give him any warning. He had to have been planning to leave him for some time, if he were to conveniently disappear two months after breaking up with Bucky like it was nothing. “What makes you think I would know that?” He whispered, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at his friends.

 

“Wouldn’t you know?”

 

Not for the first time that day, Bucky’s heart twisted. “No, Nat, I wouldn’t know, he didn’t tell me anything about it.” He said. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know that this probably shocked her. He suddenly became more than aware of his brain and what it was telling him. _Steve left him on purpose. He had planned to do it. It was a ticking time bomb, as everything seemed to be._ _Steve was the closest thing he’d ever had to an actual loving relationship and now it’s gone. Get out of your damn head Barnes, he’s not coming back. You obviously had to royally fuck up enough for him to not tell you about his tour and then just up and leave one day. Or there’s someone else. There’s probably someone else._ He felt a hand on his back and he hadn’t realized he was shaking until he managed to pry his eyes open. When he looked to his left, he saw Sam staring at Natasha’s phone. On his right, Natasha had managed to swipe his phone from his hands without realizing it, and was holding it out to him while placing her other hand on his back to calm him down. On his left, Sam stuck a piece of paper into his pocket quickly.

 

“What did you do?” He asked, voice raspy from not talking.

 

“Set a reminder in your phone. You’re coming out with us tomorrow night. Stop shutting yourself away. We’re just as worried about you as we are him. He only told us about the tour after he left for it, so.” Nat said, managing to hide her emotions, but Bucky knew her well enough to know she wasn’t pleased about this. Sam said nothing.

 

“Okay, fine. Don’t know how long I’ll stay, but I’ll be there.” Bucky said reluctantly. He really didn’t want to do this.

 

“Good.” Natasha said with an air of finality, “Sam, we gotta go.” Sam nodded and stood up.

 

“This isn’t your fault. I know you think it is. Talk to him.” Sam said quietly, shutting the door behind both of them as they left.

 

Talk to him? How? What? He wouldn’t be home for another few months, and Bucky sure as hell wasn’t about to text Steve when he was out traveling, if Steve didn’t want him knowing he was gone in the first place. If Steve wanted to make contact, he would have found a way.

 

****

 

_**One Month Late** _ _**r** _

 

Steve sat in his hotel room halfway across the world, bright and early, unable to sleep. It had been seven months, to the day, where he made the worst mistake of his life. One minute he was sitting on the couch with Bucky’s head in his lap, and the next minute his brain was telling him it was wrong, that this was a lie and everything he had known was going to be ruined and Bucky would be hurt more than he already had been.

 

One minute he was happy, and the next his throat was constricting as he walked out of the shared apartment they had basically just moved into, without knowing why he had done it. Then, one month later, he had booked tickets to England to stay there for a while, without telling anyone about it.Natasha had found out, and had rightfully been pissed, but it had gotten too hard to be in Brooklyn and see everything, knowing Bucky was somewhere out there hurting. It had been way too hard to look at all of his surroundings knowing that him and Bucky had probably been there at some point.

 

He didn’t even know what had caused it, other than his brain making too much noise and telling him to leave the relationship, or else. He just looked at Bucky in that moment and thought, _He’s it for me. I could do this forever._ It wasn’t a new thought per se, but for some reason it sent him spiraling.

 

He could do this forever, but could Bucky? Could Bucky really deal with Steve for however long they might have left? Did Bucky really want the future Steve did? Them, together, a dog, maybe a kid or two, but really just them together forever? Did Bucky even want him at all? Probably not. Why had he even stuck with Steve all this time when he could have so much better? Anyone would be lucky to have Bucky.

 

And after what had happened with Sharon, Steve knew he’d hurt Bucky at some point. And Bucky was the last person in the world that deserved that. He’d already been through so much, the last thing he needs is Steve hurting him. Kind of a sick cycle, since leaving Bucky seemed to be the only solution even though it most definitely had hurt him anyways, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. So in a way, Steve was right. He really was going to hurt him.

 

Overcome with the itch to be out of his room for the day, he grabbed his backpack and managed to find his way to the park he had frequented the past few months. He sat down on a park bench and watched the kids playing, the happy couples, the dogs, and everything else.

 

He thought about Bucky, as he typically did on days like these. Forever was a strange concept. It was daunting. Steve had never been happier than he had when he was with Bucky. Now that he wasn’t, he didn’t know what to do. The years he spent with Bucky didn’t feel like forever. None of it was daunting until he realized he could stay like that forever. The thought of staying with Bucky now seemed impossible, but not daunting. He could do forever, if it was with Bucky.

 

The realization of that hit him like a brick. In breaking up with Bucky, he broke his own heart in the process. He had to get back. He abruptly stood up from the bench he was sitting on and all but ran down the streets of England. The park wasn’t too far from his hotel, so he made it there no problem.

 

When he got back to his room, there was an envelope sitting on the floor underneath his door. It had Bucky’s chicken scratch and return address. He froze, picking up the envelope like it was going to be sand, fading through his fingers with one wrong movement. He opened the envelope and held his breath.

 

This was it. When Bucky told him sorry, but he’s moved on.

 

He unfolded the piece of scrap notebook paper and began to read. It was written two months ago, on Valentine’s Day. Steve remembered how painful that day had been, how he had walked around the city thinking of all the things he could have been doing with Bucky instead.

 

**Steve,**

 

**I don’t know why I’m doing this. I don’t know if you’re even going to see it, if I’m even going to send it. It’s the first Valentine’s Day without you.**

 

**Ever since you left, I’ve been dreading today. Knowing that you’re probably off happy with somebody else hurts me more than you leaving did.**

 

**That’s a lie. You leaving hurt like hell.**

 

**I don’t know what I did wrong. I don’t know what I did to make you unhappy. I thought whatever it was, we could work through it. Like we always do. But I guess this time was different. I miss you like crazy, sweetheart. You always knew (let’s be real, you always know) how to calm me down, how to make me feel better, how to make me laugh on days it seems impossible.**

 

**If there’s someone else, just tell me. I’d be happy for you, through it all. You deserve someone who can give you what you really need.**

 

**You’re it for me, Stevie. Always have been.**

 

**I hope you’re okay, wherever you are. You deserve the world.**

 

**~~Love~~ ,**

 

**Fuck it.**

 

**Love,**

**Bucky.**

 

Steve felt tears burning at the corners of his eyes. Bucky really thought there was someone else. As if anyone could be anything compared to him. He made his way to his bed, still holding the letter and pulled out his phone, hovering over the phone app.

 

Bucky’s name was still first in his favorites. Before he could second guess himself, he pressed the call button.

 

One ring. Two rings. Three, four, five, voicemail.

 

“Shit.” Steve muttered. He pressed call again.

 

One ring. Two rings. Three, four, — “‘lo?” Bucky’s voice came through the speaker. Steve froze. He had forgotten about the time difference. It was 2 in the morning for Bucky, and he had obviously just woken up.

 

“Bucky?” He asked. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _Of course it’s Bucky, that’s who you called, dumbass._

 

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Steve?”

 

“Yeah, Buck, it’s me.” Steve said. There was a click, and the line went dead.

 

“What?” Steve asked aloud. He hit the call button again.

 

Bucky answered again. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.” He said.

 

“I got your letter.” Steve said in response, feeling the tears come on once again.

 

“My—my what?” Steve heard the creak of their—Bucky’s—bed and the bedside drawer open. “Shit, shit. That wasn’t supposed to be sent, how did it get sent, fuck, Steve. I’m sorry.”

 

“Bucky, I’m the one that should be sorry.”

 

“Steve, it’s two in the morning.” Bucky sounded to be getting more frustrated with every passing second. He had every right to be.

 

“Please just hear me out.” Steve pleaded.

 

“Fine.”

 

“I love you, so fucking much. So much it scared me. There’s nobody else I’m seeing, I—this is harder than I thought it would be.” Steve took a breath.

 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked.

 

“I miss you. Bucky, I left because I was scared. I took one look at you, and I thought ‘I could do this forever’ and it scared me. It was sudden, and unexpected, and I know it hurt you, and you don’t deserve that. I had some voice in the back of my head telling me that I was going to hurt you and I had to leave you before I did that, when in reality I can’t get your face when I was leaving out of my head. I left for England to clear my head. Everything back home reminded me of you. I know an apology isn’t enough. I know me saying all of this over the phone isn’t the best way to say it, but I read your letter and, God, Buck. I’m so, so, sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” Steve was crying by the end of his spiel.

 

There was silence on the other end.

 

“You’re right. Saying sorry doesn’t make it better. You really hurt me. I’ve been so confused this whole time as to what I did wrong, and then you up and left like it was nothing, didn’t tell anyone, and now you’re calling me at 2 in the morning because all of a sudden you read my letter and realized you regretted it?” Bucky asked. He sounded mad.

 

“I regretted it the second I did it Buck. I was sitting in the park today just watching all of these people go by, and I was thinking about us, again, like I have been every day for seven months, and I realized that the idea of forever with you wasn’t daunting anymore. And by leaving you I hurt you but also me and leaving did nothing but hurt us and I know we can work through anything, and I miss you so much it hurts me, and I’m coming home. I’m coming home as soon as I can.”

 

“Coming home won’t fix it.” Bucky said quietly.

 

“I know it won’t. But it’s a start, and I want to be with you for however long you’ll have me. I know I fucked up, and things might not ever be the same, but please Buck, let me make it right.” Steve held his breath waiting for him.

 

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “I’ve missed you too. It might not fix everything, but please come home.” Bucky said.

 

“I will. I—I love you.” Steve said.

 

“I love you too. See you soon.” The call disconnected.

 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. He was going home.


End file.
